


Warmth

by Lothiriel84



Series: There was this Bad Guy (let's call him Bad Guy) [6]
Category: MarsCorp (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bogeyman, Creepy Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions of Myth & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Hold me in this wild, wild, world'Cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be





	Warmth

_You know it’s only a matter of time. Sooner or later he’s bound to find out what kind of a monster you are, and he’s going to loathe you for that. Just you wait._

“Master? Master, wake up.”

_He’s going to feel hurt, and betrayed. Do you think that’s fair on him? You should have done as I told you, sent him back to his home world._

“It’s me, Patrick. Wake up, please?”

 _Selfish. You’re always been selfish, and now an innocent child is going to pay for your sins._  

“Master!”

He woke with a scream, belatedly realised he was clinging onto the claw Mr Velvet had been using to prod him awake; he immediately let go of it, running a weary hand across his face as if to wipe away the last of his dream. As much as his body craved a good night’s sleep, he just couldn’t find it in himself to go back to the nightmares that had been plaguing his slumber for longer than he cared to remember. He tossed the covers away, dragged himself down the stairs and into the kitchen, an uncharacteristically quiet Patrick in his tow.

“It’s those dreams again, isn’t it?” Patrick dared to speak at length, as he fixed himself a cup of milky tea. “I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about it?”

He shot him a grim smile, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his cup. “It’s the BGU we’re talking about, so I’d say no.”

“I hate to suggest it, but perhaps I could brew some of that concoction you humans seem to enjoy so much? It used to send you straight to sleep, back in the old days.”

“Not with two kids around the house, I don’t think,” he sighed, striving to ignore the sudden craving for the sweet taste of alcohol burning down his throat. He hesitated, taking a thoughtful sip of his tea. “Perhaps Its Majesty Upstairs is right – I’d better let the little guys go, before it’s too late for them.”

“And erase all of their memories? I don’t think there’s anything right about that. Besides, they’re happy here, aren’t they?”

Colin shrugged, and placed the teacup back onto its saucer. Little David sure looked perfectly content to stay in this god-awful non-place for the foreseeable future; even Dave had more or less settled in, after all the weeping and wailing of his early days. Still, it was far from an ideal location for human children to thrive and grow, even less in the care of two literal Bogeymen who kidnapped the likes of them for a living.

“Shareholders, but I could kill for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep,” he muttered to no one in particular, Mr Velvet’s gaze following his every move as he rinsed his cup, and checked the bolt of the cupboard out of sheer habit. Eventually, he crept back upstairs, only realising he was headed for the kids’ room when he found himself standing in front of the closed door.

Taking a deep breath, he cracked the door open, making as little noise as his preternatural skills allowed him to; he tiptoed into the room, stooping down to pick up Dave’s decrepit stuffed animal that only bore a vague resemblance to a teddy bear. Dave mumbled something indistinct in his sleep, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets with the toy clutched to his chest.

As he often did, David was sleeping with his hand tucked under the pillow, his cherubic face relaxed into the hint of a smile at whatever his dreams were bringing him tonight. Colin stood there for a long moment, caught in a rush of unfamiliar emotion he did not entirely understand, let alone dared to acknowledge by its own name.

Had he been a better man, or even a man at all, he would have vowed to change his ways for the sake of the – disastrously misplaced – trust his little friend had somehow decided to put in him; as it was, he found himself wishing he were the person David needed him to be, regardless that he knew well enough that it was never going to happen. A new wave of weariness washed over him like a cold, deep ocean without light, leaving him to feel as old as time itself, and desperately longing for the warmth of another living creature’s affections.

Just a couple of minutes, he told himself as he climbed onto the bed, carefully wrapping himself around the sleeping form of the boy he’d grown ever so fond of over such a short span of non-time. Perhaps in one of the infinite universes that were continually being born, only to eventually explode into nothingness, an unredeemable creature such as he was could actually experience love, and be loved in return. Not here, not now, though; he had to make do with what little mercies the Big Guy Upstairs allowed, even in between the tortuous and twisted dreams It sent to torment him in his sleep.

“Colin?” David mumbled sleepily, his tiny hand sliding up the side of his face. “What is it? Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing, buddy. Go back to sleep.”

David’s fingers tangled in his hair, stroking it ever so gently. “I’m going to get you out of here, someday. And Patrick, too.”

Colin said nothing, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. He didn’t deserve David, and yet, he simply couldn’t let go of him, no matter how hard he tried.

“Sleep,” he murmured at length, even as David’s breathing evened and his fingers stilled in his hair. He could hear the boy’s heartbeat through the covers, and for now, that was more than enough.

 

It was only much later that Patrick sneaked into the attic and found them still fast asleep, Colin’s head resting lightly against David’s chest. He hovered there watching them fondly for a few minutes, then crawled his way up the wall and made himself at home on the ceiling.


End file.
